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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245456">pb100 drabble collection :)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_more_offbeat_anthem/pseuds/one_more_offbeat_anthem'>one_more_offbeat_anthem</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>offbeat's destiel drabbles :) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, Longing, M/M, Profound100 Challenge (Supernatural), The Impala (Supernatural)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:08:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,711</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245456</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_more_offbeat_anthem/pseuds/one_more_offbeat_anthem</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of short, 100-word drabbles from the profound bond server's pb100 challenge. tags updated as more works are added!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel &amp; Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>offbeat's destiel drabbles :) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089983</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>ProfoundBond Drabble Challenge</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. pretend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>ever since cas became human, he has struggled with minor injuries. paper cuts, stubbed toes, getting nicks from the knife helping dean cook. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>today, though, a splinter. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>dean lights a match, holds it to the needle he’s about to plunge into cas’s palm. “to sterilize it,” he says. cas nods once.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>when dean sits in front of him, cas won’t meet his eyes. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“hey,” dean said, “you don’t have to pretend that it doesn’t hurt. not in front of me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>when the splinter is gone, dean presses cas’s palm to his lips--a kiss--and then gently puts a bandage on it. </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. weight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>dean sighs, hefting up another flimsy cardboard box of mystery novels, before almost getting hit in the face by a bookshelf cas is carrying.</p><p>“dude,” dean says, “if you'd told me you could lift a whole bookshelf, with the books in it, we could've moved a lot faster.”</p><p>“but then i wouldn’t have gotten to watch you curse over all the boxes of books,” cas replies innocently, tilting his head.</p><p>“at this point we’re gonna have to buy stock in barnes and noble,” dean grumbles, but he’s smiling.</p><p>having a house with cas is worth carrying all those goddamn books.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. itch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“dude,” dean says, bursting into the war room, where sam has his head buried in some book about witches, “i think cas might be allergic to grass.”</p><p>sam’s head jerked up, “how?”</p><p>“hell if i know! we were outside, went to sit down, and now he’s itchy all over....” dean runs a hand through his hair, "i'm worried about him."</p><p>“of course you are, you sap. maybe a bath will help.”</p><p>later, as cas sinks into the bathwater, dean asks, handing him a washcloth, “how could a former angel be allergic to grass?”</p><p>cas shrugs.</p><p>“idiot,” dean mutters, but he’s smiling. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. loose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p>Sam was taken aback when he entered the garage.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dean and Cas stood shoulder-to-shoulder over the open hood of the Impala. He heard Dean explaining to Cas, “This one? With the plus sign? A Phillips. And the other one?” He waved a screwdriver around, “A flathead. Got it?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes,” came Cas's gravelly reply, “Although I don't understand why Phillip would--”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Not important, Cas. So, when you’re screwing--” Sam fought a chuckle at Dean's word choice, “--You wanna turn it right to tighten, left to loosen. Righty-tighty, lefty-loosey.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Lefty-loosey?” Cas said seriously.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes,” Dean replied, and Sam could hear his smile from the door.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. temper</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <em>Temper (verb): to dilute, qualify, or soften by the addition or influence of something else</em>
  </b>
</p><p>Dean is standing in the kitchen, leaning on the counter, drinking a beer, staring into nothingness, or maybe something only he can see. He’s stiff, shoulders tense. </p><p>Castiel sees this from across the room--he sees it every time, knows the slight clench of the jaw that indicates something’s wrong. </p><p>“Dean.”</p><p>Dean’s eyes flick up, drift back down, “Cas.”</p><p>Cas walks to the fridge, grabs his own beer. He pops off the cap the way Dean taught him, goes to stand by him, leaning against the counter next to him. </p><p>Dean glances at him, his eyes wild in a post-hunt, post-near-death-experience haze. </p><p>Cas puts a hand on his shoulder. </p><p>Dean’s jaw unclenches.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. compulsion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean glanced over at Cas, seated next to him in the Impala, rattling off facts about flight patterns of birds. With the mid-afternoon sun on Cas’s face, how he kept running his hands through his hair, his posture strewn-out and comfortable...</p><p>Dean had the urge he always tamped down--lean over, brush his lips over the angel’s, feel that smile against his.</p><p>Desire, compulsion, longing, Dean could call it anything, but it always boiled down to <em>Cas</em>. This was what Dean wanted, more than anything.</p><p>Dean settled for reaching his hand across the seat to lay on top of Cas’s.</p><p>(He thought Cas understood what he meant.)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Annointed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Do not touch My anointed ones, and do My prophets no harm.”</em>
</p><p>Dean reads the words, written in Cas’s cramped handwriting, in the front of the notebook the angel always brings on cases. Normally, he wouldn’t be looking through it, but Cas is out getting them coffee, and Dean, well...he had wondered what the angel wrote in the book.</p><p>He’s still pondering the words when Cas wanders back into their motel room with two cups of shitty coffee from the motel's breakfast nook, and Cas notices that Dean’s standing in front of his open notebook.</p><p>Somehow, he knows what Dean’s question is, and answers it. “It’s from psalm 105,” the angel says.</p><p>“Thought all of that stuff was crap.” Dean takes his coffee from Cas, takes a sip. It’s just as bad going down as he expected.</p><p>“Enough of it is true,” Cas shrugs, “I like to think of it as being about both the people we try to help...and the people I care about.”</p><p>Dean reads the words again.</p><p>He thinks he knows what Cas is trying to say.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Priest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“The word priest comes from the Greek <em>presbyteros</em>, meaning <em>elder</em>,” Cas read. “This book is highly informative, although I wonder if parishioners regularly ask about the etymology of the terminology used for their leaders.”</p><p>“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say they don’t.” Dean set down his own book, a completely uninteresting tome on the mating habits of werewolves, “And I said you should do research for the case, not read some book about Greek or whatever.”</p><p>“Your exact words were, <em>Cas, you’re ‘gonna’ have to disguise yourself as a priest for this case. Get to researching.” </em>Somehow, the air-quotes had contempt.</p><p>“I meant about the case, not about--you know what?” Dean shot Cas a grin, “Keep reading that book. I think this’ll be entertaining.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. distraction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p>Sam picked up one of the tabloids off the stand by the grocery store checkout and flipped through it, trying to distract himself from the latest episode of <em>Dean-and-Cas-Stare-at-Each-Other-and-Then-Bicker. </em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(Once they finally got over themselves and admitted their feelings for each other, it would <em>really </em>be timefor a distraction, preferably involving noise-canceling headphones or a case in another dimension.)</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The tabloid wasn’t that interesting, though, and Sam found himself tuning back into their conversation. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m telling you,” Dean said, “<em>Return of the Jedi </em>is the best Star Wars movie.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s not as good as <em>Empire Strikes Back</em>,” Cas replied in a tone that implied that they had had this conversation before. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sweetheart,” Dean let out a sigh, “I love you, but you’re wrong.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Okay, so maybe Sam had <em>already </em>been distracted. </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Superglue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey, Cas,” Sam said, furrowing his brow as he watched the angel rummage through the fridge, “What’s up? I thought you were helping Dean fix up some stuff in the garage.”</p><p>Cas ignored the question and turned from the fridge with a stick of butter before grabbing the dish soap from the side of the sink.</p><p>“Earth to Cas?” Sam asked, “Dean? Garage? What’s up?”</p><p>“Oh,” Cas said, “I read an article about removing superglue. It said something about butter and soap.”</p><p>“Why would you need to remove superglue....oh my god. Cas, did Dean superglue his fingers together?”</p><p>“....Maybe.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. opening</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean’s been searching for an opening for weeks now, a time that he can casually drop it into conversation. He doesn’t think it’s a phrase that he can say with much pomp and circumstance--otherwise, he’ll get too nervous.</p><p>But maybe searching for the perfect moment is creating too much of that buildup. His leg is almost constantly jiggling, and he’s sure that Cas has started to notice.</p><p>All of that flies out of his mind when Cas, coming back from taking the dog for a walk, trips over the leash and falls into a heap at Dean’s feet. As Dean helps him up, before he knows what he’s done, he’s said it, the words he’s been holding in.</p><p>“Cas, will you marry me?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. roast</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Roast beast or turkey sandwiches?” Dean asked as he pulled a jar of mayonnaise out of the fridge.</p><p>“Roast beast?” Cas tilted his head. “That doesn’t sound...good.”</p><p>“It’s a joke, Cas. Like...roast beef, roast beast? It’s from a Dr. Seuss book.”</p><p>“Dr. Seuss? What was he a doctor of?”</p><p>“He--he wasn’t a real doctor, Cas. He wrote books, kid stuff. <em>Fox in Socks, Cat in the Hat, How the Grinch Stole Christmas?”</em></p><p>Cas’ head tilt somehow intensified. “What’s a grinch?”</p><p>“You know what?” Dean said, stowing the mayonnaise. “Forget the sandwiches. There’s a movie we need to watch.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. cornered</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p>It’s been a while since Dean’s been cornered by the righteous fury of heaven. </p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Usually, he’s got Cas on his side, drinking coffee with honey and knitting truly horrible scarves and falling asleep, his head lolling on Dean’s shoulder, halfway through <em>Dr. Sexy </em>re-runs.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Right now, though, he’s got <em>Castiel, </em>and he's pinned against the dryer in the bunker’s laundry room, because he accidentally put a red sock in the load of whites.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>(To be honest, though, there are <em>much worse </em>positions to be in. And Dean is sure he can figure out at least one way to make it up to Cas.)</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="pOoZl">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. gesture</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Look,” Dean said, frowning at Cas, “I <em>know </em>new mattresses are expensive, but we <em>literally </em>have unlimited funds, and yours sucks.”</p><p>Cas made a rude gesture that Dean was pretty sure he’d learned from Dean himself, but consented to follow Dean out of the car and into the mattress store.</p><p>“What you need,” Dean said as they walked inside, “Is memory foam, like I have.”</p><p>“Then why don’t I just sleep with you?” Cas asked, tilting his head, and Dean stopped in his tracks and turned to Cas.</p><p>“You’d like that?” He sputtered.</p><p>Cas nodded.</p><p>“Well, uh...okay. Guess we don’t need to be here, then.”</p><p>(Dean was right, Cas thought later. A memory foam mattress <em>was </em>much more comfortable.)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. vibe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So get--oh, hey, Jack. Why are you standing outside the kitchen?” Sam gave Jack a once-over. “Is something wrong? Did Dean let Cas help him cook again so now there’s soup all over the floor?”</p><p>“What? No. Just look.” Jack motioned to the doorjamb, and Sam craned his head around it. </p><p>He suddenly understood why Jack was just standing and watching. Apparently Dean <em>had </em>bullied Cas into cooking, because they were both wearing aprons, but they were also...dancing? To sixties music? </p><p>“They’re <em>vibing,” </em>Jack said in a whisper. <br/><br/>“Yeah,” Sam grinned. “They are.” And Dean looked so happy to be dancing in the kitchen with his angel that Sam <em>almost </em>didn’t make fun of him about it later.</p><p>(Almost.)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. crest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So Cas is allergic to toothpaste. </p><p>Well, to be more specific, he has “sensitive gums,” which means he’s not <em>exactly </em>allergic but he’s a little bitch if he uses the wrong toothpaste.</p><p>(This was discovered after a semi-traumatizing dentist’s visit, because all of them needed it, but Cas was horrified to have someone put their hands in his mouth.)</p><p>(Well, someone that isn’t Dean. Dean’s hands in Cas’ mouth is a little...different, though. And not really safe for public places.)</p><p>So now they’re at the drugstore, with Dean watching Cas pore over the different tubes of toothpaste like they’re lore for a hunt. </p><p>“Y’know,” Dean says, “It doesn’t matter what brand you use as long as it’s the sensitive kind. Just get Crest or Colgate or whatever.”</p><p>Cas glares at him, and Dean resigns himself to spending at least thirty minutes in the freakin’ toothpaste aisle, because he loves Cas that much.</p><p>(Maybe he’ll go get some more condoms, though.)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. sweat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p>Sparring was Dean’s idea but he’s starting to regret it. He and Cas are both sweaty, and Dean is getting tired. Even without his grace, Cas is strong--and <em>clever</em>. This is the third time he’s pinned Dean down in as many minutes, and Dean is pretty sure the neck hold he’s using is purposeful.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Hoping to catch Cas off balance, Dean tosses a wink at him, which turns out to be a dangerous move, because Cas just bends lower over him and whispers, lips close enough to brush his ear and make him shiver, “So you want to play it that way?”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. grind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Living in their new farmhouse, sun streaming in through the windows, white curtains in the kitchen and a wide front porch, has been magical. Cas loves waking up in the morning to a warm bed, his husband next to him, their dog jumping on the bed.</p><p>He does <em>not </em>love the coffee grinder.</p><p>Cas prefers to wake up slowly and languidly, to patter around the house getting breakfast and a cup of tea ready, to stand on the porch and look at the breeze buffeting the tall grasses.</p><p>Dean prefers fresh-ground coffee almost as soon as he wakes up. </p><p>“Do you <em>have </em>to do this every morning?” Cas says, a few months into living in the farmhouse. He knows he’s being over grouchy, but he doesn’t like that Dean leaves their bed to make a bunch of noise.</p><p>“Fresh ground coffee is better, Cas.” Dean pours water into the coffee maker and shuts it, turning it on. </p><p>“You couldn’t grind it the night before?”<br/><br/>“I’ve got other things to grind at night, Cas.” Dean is grinning at him.</p><p>“Don’t try to flirt with me. I still hate the coffee grinder.”</p><p>“But you love me.”</p><p>And that’s true. Cas loves Dean more than anything, loves that they have a chance to have a happy life together. They have sunlight and a place of their own and each other. He supposes that part of love is compromise and putting up with the godforsaken coffee grinder in the mornings.</p><p>(Although Cas is still going to figure out how to strategically get rid of it. Maybe he can give it to Sam.)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. stoic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean knows what people see when they’re working cases. Cas fills out a suit pretty well (<em>really</em> well, actually, why did he hide all those muscles under a trench coat for years?) and his blue eyes are all kinds of piercing, and that paired with his gravelly voice makes him appear stoic and maybe a little imposing to people they interview.</p><p>But Dean knows the other side of Cas, too, what he’s like when he trades his fed suit for a hoodie and an old pair of Dean’s sweatpants, how he is when he’s not angling for information but is instead curled up against Dean in their bed with reading glasses and sock feet.</p><p>It’s kinda the best thing ever. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. slim</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p>Dean’s trying to be responsible, he really is, but it’s hard to stay focused on the fact that his brother is in the next motel room when Cas is in the process of sucking a mark into his neck. Their clothes are scattered across the floor, the pillows pushed off the bed, the movie playing on the TV forgotten. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What,” Dean pants out as Cas’ hands decide to explore, “What are the chances of these walls being thick enough?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Cas pulls away for a moment. “Slim,” he replies, before going back in for a searing kiss. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dean decides not to care. Sam’ll live. </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. baby</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Don’t wake the baby </em>is an easy thing to say, but a hard thing to do. </p><p>Sleepless nights turn into sleepy mornings regularly these days. Instead of making a pot of coffee first thing, Dean warms a bottle of formula. The war room has been taken over by a playpen and they baby-proofed the goddamn firing range. </p><p>Maybe Dean’s not getting a lot of sleep and his life has been turned on its head, but all of that means nothing whenever Dean rounds a corner and sees Cas with Jack in his arms. It’s kind of the best thing he’s ever seen.</p><p>And then Jack starts crawling. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. core</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean doesn’t always pay attention in his English class, but he has a good reason.</p><p>That reason’s name is Cas Milton, and Cas sits next to him in Intro to English Literature, taking thorough, color-coded notes with borderline terrifying precision and speed. Cas always lets Dean borrow his notes to copy and is often game for a study session at the campus coffee shop. </p><p>So maybe Dean’s not learning a lot about the core concepts of literature, but he’s gotten really good at flirting using Shakespeare.</p><p>(They don’t get a lot of studying done at the coffee shop.)</p>
  </div></div>
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